


The Beast of Fhirdiad

by Meatbike344



Series: Fairy Tales in the Dark [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatbike344/pseuds/Meatbike344
Summary: When the town of Fhirdiad gets terrorized by a ravenous beast whose eye is set on the Jarl’s youngest son, Felix is offered up as a sacrifice to satisfy its hunger. But little does the man know that it has other plans for him.FEATURING two pieces of wonderful art done by1ssa!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Fairy Tales in the Dark [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889569
Comments: 35
Kudos: 188





	The Beast of Fhirdiad

It came at night.

A phantom of death which flown in from the crevices of bestial wickedness and spite, it stole away the precious animals of the village of Fhirdiad. First, the goats, who bleated and cried mercy—the morning shone the leftovers of a vicious attack. None too well for the eyes. Next, the cows; they were valuable for milk, and too, were gobbled up in a violent, excessive death. Finally, the hogs squealed and shrilled until there was nothing left but bones.

The Jarl of Fhirdiad, a pious God-fearing man of Fraldarius, had first believed it to be a common wolf. He gathered the village’s best hunters, including his eldest son, Glenn, and sent them out to bring him the head of the wolf. Muskets, torches, and swords of steel shone in the darkness, a small beacon of hope descending deeper into the forest.

None of the hunters returned.

And the only head that came from the party was that of Miklan Gautier, placed right at the doorsteps of his father. It was wrapped up nicely in a bloody garment, lifeless eyes pointed to the dark sky—a present from the beast beyond.

This was no work of a common wolf.

The Jarl, overcome with grief and a distinct madness over Glenn’s death summoned special hunters from all over—men skilled in their dealings with outwardly, godless creatures.

They came to Fhirdiad, armed in holy weapons of divinity and blessed by the Goddess herself. To whoever could bring the Jarl the creature’s head would not only be rewarded by riches but would be offered the hand of the Jarl’s youngest son—a vicious beauty, renowned for attracting suitors from all over.

With the promise of gold and marriage to Fhirdiad’s flower, the hunters disappeared into the endless forest, the pride of their experiences with old-world evils clinging to their armored backs like aegis.

The Jarl awoke to find the headless corpse of the head hunter, sitting by his door like a sleeping drunkard.

It was not long before the beast’s hunger evolved to a more manic state; missing villagers became a common subject—husbands, farmers, and even some of the village guards disappeared in the place of a few garments of shredded clothing. It attacked without cause, only to reprieve itself of a hunger that demanded more.

It soon became an unspoken law for doors to be bolted at dusk; mothers dragged their children off the streets and into the sanctuary of their homes; husbands boarded up their windows and locked away their fences; shops closed early with the glow of street lanterns dissipating to empty and lone darkness.

The Jarl had given up combating the evil that terrorized his village. Instead, he had decided to appease it with a nightly tribute—a farm animal, so his people could be granted safety. A goat was left out, chained to a post by the outskirts of the village by the forest, as a gift for their new dark god.

By morning, only tufts of bloody fur remained. This duty continued, a sacrifice to the evil so it may spare their lives. Farmers took turns to feed the beast, offering their best livestock—prized chickens, cows, and sheep. In return, there would no longer be any mourning widows and fatherless children. A delicate dance between master and slave—just for the chance to wake up the next day.

But it all ended when Felix Fraldarius came home, one night, after curfew.

It was no secret that the youngest son of the Jarl was a beauty; dark raven hair that flowed long and over the piercing amber of his eyes. Winter skin that pinked upon touch and a body long and slender, fitting of a courtesan dancer. Even from up close, it was easy to mistake Felix for a maiden, one of high birth and beauty. Then he spoke. And the illusion shattered instantaneously.

If his body were that of a dancer, his tongue was spitting flames from a blacksmith’s beating hammer—it sparked, lashed, and stung violently; a steeliness that kept both friend and suitor a good few feet away. And after the death of his older brother, this harshness mutated into hostile loneliness, which kept the youngest son occupied on excessive hunting for days on end.

Suitors from all over, enamored men bearing flowers, gems, and fine fabrics were met with the cold barrel of a musket and a single challenge: outshoot him in a bird hunt.

As expected, Felix’s hand was not so easily won—3 to 15 was usually the average and a poor average at that. Felix scoffed at the inconvenience before him by men too weak to keep up and continued his solitary lifestyle.

In reality, the young man was in mourning—ever since Glenn disappeared from the hunting party. It was no secret that the brothers were fond of each other with Glenn being his only equal in hunting.

Now he was gone and Felix was left, alone, to the mercy of his god-fearing father, too obsessed with saving the village, and the bore of his many suitors. And in his inescapable gilded cage, Felix found solace in his hunt and watching the vast valley beyond Fhirdiad; lands and blue mountains of ice sprawling outward from the village—places unknown to even the Jarl.

Felix sat perched at his usual spot—a slab of stone outside of the village by the woods, overlooking the valley. Sometimes he’d imagined what it would be like to just take off—leave the village behind and just make a run for it. He'd be free from the maddening of his father, free from the constant marriage proposals, and free from the denomination beast that roamed the streets at night.

While he never admitted it, he too lived in fear of the thing lurking outside his house, which stole so many men away in the night—including Glenn. At first, Felix was so sure that it was a wolf, and then he saw Miklan Gautier’s head wrapped like a courting gift; the headless corpse of the head hunter who tried to grope him in the woods—all signs of an entity so sick and depraved that not even the Goddess could banish it.

Sometimes, Felix could hear it feed loudly on the nightly sacrifice. He laid, curled up in his bed, shaking as the screams of animals kept him up with its incandescent lullaby, so morbidly inhumane that he wondered what exactly the monster did to make something shriek that much. If Felix left, he would no longer suffer from the threat of being torn apart.

Only if.

Felix could not understand why exactly he lacked the will to leave. Perhaps it was his memories of Glenn that tied him to this place. Perhaps it was his friend, Sylvain Gautier, who needed support after opening that door that faithful day to greet his brother’s head. Other than that, Felix would have left a long time ago. At least, that was what he told himself.

It was this particular day where Felix, at his usual rock, had fallen asleep from a long day of work. When he finally awoken, the foggy, low sun was no longer in the sky; in its stead was an unkind icy moon—the marker for humanity to stay indoors and for beasts of prey to prowl the streets. Felix’s heart lurched violently and he jumped up, breaking into a run.

Curfew. The streets of Fhirdiad emptied and the locks on all the doors bolted tightly.

And the nightly sacrifice was already out for feeding—and Felix did not want to be caught between the beast and its dinner.

By the time Felix reached the village, the lanterns had already been snuffed out, signaling the start of Fhirdiad’s night curfew. There was not a soul in sight and the houses sat in complete and utter silence. Felix kept the growing panic in his voice—no one would dare let him in after this time with his own father already asleep to hear his cries for help. Perhaps if he snuck over to Sylvain or Ingrid’s window, they would shelter him for the night.

But Felix’s thoughts were interrupted when he witnessed a sight so gruesome and grotesque, he stopped, paralyzed with suffocating fear. Merely a few feet away, towards where the village met the dark forest, a sight too bloody to properly behold; the head of a sheep dangling by the mere sliver of its skin; murky eyes bulged out of its socket, glassy; blood gushing out and coating its once white whoop red.

And the large jaws that clamped down on the door creature belonged to a lurking monstrosity Felix could describe as a twisted chimera between a feral wolf and a man—standing on its hind legs with blonde fur, matted with blood. Its fangs shone white in the darkness like daggers, sinking deeper into the sheep.

But what terrorized Felix the most was the pair of blue eyes, glowing ominously and pent full of hunger as it began to suck blood from the torn body. This beast, standing taller than any man Felix had seen before, was the epitome of everything he ancient evil to look.

When he heard the distinct snap of bones beings crushed, he let out a little cry; the beast stopped, blue godless eyes reverted over to the immobilized boy.

The half-eaten sheep carcass dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” Felix cursed and immediately brought his musket up; the creature gave a thundering roar, the ground around them shook, and it took off to its unwanted guest.

It was but a single moment, the distance between beast and hunter, and Felix felt the hot sting of the monster’s breath nearing his face as he pulled the trigger.

Blood spilled to the earth.

Felix opened his eyes, hands shaking on his weapon, and peered at the thrashing beast before him.

It held its right eye, blood gushing out in between its long claws, and it gave a deep roar. Its other eye, rolled around frantically before leveling dead center on Felix.

Then it had begun to laugh.

A deep guttural sound that vibrated through the night sky, amusement so dangerous that all killing intent went from animalistic hunger to pure, unadulterated human torture—it wanted to see him suffer for this.

But Felix did not stick around long to see this desire come to fruition.

He picked himself up and took off down the street, not once looking back even as that ungodly laughter rang outrun _, little rabbit, run!_ Felix did not stop, even as he busted through the door of his own home, sending the lock flying, threw a bookshelf down to block the entrance, and dove into his bedsheets and all.

His heart would not stop beating, threatening to burst right in his chest.

The sounds of animalistic glee never left his mind that night, invading his dreams and twisting them into nightmares. The blue eye of lust and depravity watching him through the walls.

When morning finally came, someone screamed, and Felix awoke to his entire outside window smeared with the bloody entrails of last night’s sheep—its poor head nestled right below the window. A present to a lover.

______________________

The villagers take the bloody visage at the Fraldarius window to be a direct sign from the beast itself, and one whose meaning is clear to everyone expect Felix—the creature wanted the boy. The Jarl played ignorant to his people’s words, which Felix was thankful for, but even he could not shake the image of the sheep smeared up against his wall. It meant very explicitly that the sacrifice was rejected, that the Beast somehow tracked Felix back to his house and threw the leftovers of his dinner at his window.

And only Felix knew why.

But he stayed quiet and, to everyone’s surprise, stayed indoors for the next few days, overcome with a claimed fever. The Jarl continued urging the farmers to give up their livestock for the nightly sacrifice. But that was where the trouble went.

The Jarl awoke once again and nearly fell white with grief when he came upon half the village crowded around his youngest son’s window. When he pushed though, he was greeted by a blooming mural of guts and intestines of last night’s goat—its horned head place right below the window, blue tongue out with death.

Felix was already there, practically gasping for air against Ingrid and Sylvain; the two took him away until he was able to calm himself.

The next few mornings continued this pattern, to the point where Felix kept a straight gaze out of his house, not once acknowledging the shocked crowd nor the hissing words of his father, commanding his servants to clean up the mess.

At this point, the livestock was merely supplies for the beast’s art, and the interpretation could not be more clear. But no one in Fhirdiad had the courage to directly tell the Jarl in fear for his maddening rage.

Then, one day, an outsider came into town.

A beastologist, the stranger claimed and asked for a private audience with the Jarl. No one knew what came of their meeting, but the Jarl’s overzealous need to protect and shield his only son wavered—second thoughts voiced loudly to Felix over breakfast—for the good of the village, his father had muttered beneath his breath.

Felix paled and shot up so suddenly that his chair crashed to the ground. He needed to see this so-called ‘beastologist’

The stranger had rented a room at the tavern for a few nights, and it was not very hard to find him. When Felix entered, his face contorted in rage, he saw the stranger from across the room—and his heart stopped.

There were not many men who stood as tall as this one, a looming giant draped in a long cape that draped down against the floor. The stranger turned around, and Felix caught a head of golden hair that fell over his handsome face, strong jawline taunt like an animal, but that wasn’t what made him stop.

It was the sight of the bloody bandages that wrapped around the stranger’s right eye. The man turned slightly as if expecting Felix’s company; he peered over at the boy with one dark blue eye—a predatory look so familiar to Felix that it made him shudder—and he smiled wolfishly, revealing a set of white, sharp teeth. Felix sucked in the panic, clenched his fists, and stalked over to the tall stranger.

“You,” he said, aggressively poking the firm, muscular chest before him; the stranger had to crane his head all the way down to meet the boy’s sharp glare and grinned.

“Me.”

“You—what the fuck did you say to my old man? He’s going around thinking!”

“Ah, the Jarl,” the stranger crossed his arms and hummed lightly. “He needed an expert opinion and so I gave it to him.”

“Right, by convincing him to sacrifice me to the damn beast?! Just from a few nasty murals at my window!” Felix hissed, ignoring how the one blue eye darkened immensely.

The stranger chuckled deeply. “Well, I know signs when I see them—and your situation is very clear from the beginning: this creature wants you. And if it’s rejecting all the village’s sacrifices to paint on your wall, it won’t be long before it gets irritated.”

“Fuck you! You can’t just come here and literally condemn me to be some wolf’s dinner! Who even are you? Where the fuck are you from?” Felix spatted angrily.

“Not from here,” he smiled knowingly. “I came when I heard that your people had some sort of beast problem. Thought I could help.”

“Yeah, by telling my old man that I should be tonight’s sacrifice.”

“I only tell others what they need to hear.”

“Fuck you!”

The other man arched a brow curiously and smiled. “Are you scared?”

“I...” Felix hadn’t noticed how much shorter he was compared to the man, only standing up to his broad shoulders. His eyes finally dropped down in their shared silence, roaming over the taunt muscles and solid frame of his judge, jury, and quite possibly, his executioner—Felix’s cheeks reddened and he threw his gaze elsewhere.

“You’re quite beautiful,” the stranger quipped with a light laugh.

Felix choked. “What?”

“I won’t lie to you—I heard quite a bit about you coming up here: Fhirdiad’s flower, hm? The rumors weren’t lying either, though I wish someone told me about the flower having a sharp tongue.”

“You—“

“Not that I am complaining. Honestly, I find it all so endearing,” the stranger smiled, his long canines out and present. He cocked his head, strong fingers rapping against his arms. “You know, if you’re so worried about your father sacrificing you, I could help you.”

“H-How could someone like you help me?”

“Let me court you and take you away from here.”

Felix could not speak. He stood, a mere few inches from the man’s chest, glaring up at a face pent full of amusement and glee—the one blue eyes twinkling with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. Felix never felt this hot before, even overwhelming the rage that he felt when the father told him that Glenn had died from the hunting party. Everything stung white hot and it boiled over to his cheeks and fingertips. His heart was pumping vigorously—then he realized it midway.

This was not rage.

Felix swallowed everything down and cracked his fists.

“Same rule goes for everyone else—hunt birds with me.”

The stranger smirked, a wolfishly smile that pierce the boy’s heart in different directions that were unknown to him.

______________________

15 to 15.

Felix was panicking.

This never happened to him before and it caught him off guard so quickly that he felt his musket practically shake in his grip. Gunshots rang off across the sky; his shooting rival, standing nearby, shooting down bird after bird without delay—even with one eye, this stranger from parts unknown could somehow keep up with Felix, and it scared him.

He can’t lose—he never lost before. If he lost, he would be giving up everything, resigning to his fate as a submissive spouse with little free will. Giving up his entire being and sanctity. He fought far too long against the waves of suitors that came after him, the men his father often forced upon him. How often did the Jarl promise his hand like some jewel that could be given away?

Felix cannot lose here, even if it meant throwing away his only chance at escaping—he’ll leave on his own accord before his father made any decisions. That was his promise.

The stranger stopped momentarily, loading his musket again—his strong arms moving automatically with such instinct that there was no doubt he dabbled in hunting before, but Felix was faster. He was always faster, and he slammed his gun back in place and aimed for a shadow soaring through the sky; smoke busted through the chamber with a loud roar, and the bird twitched violently before falling down. They watched as the body hit the trees below cleanly and flopped against the forest floor, a few feet from where they stood.

Felix collapsed against a nearby tree and grinned triumphantly.

“Nice try,” he huffed, genuine admiration flooding his voice.

The stranger hummed softly—impressed, and rested his musket against his side as he watched Felix. He was not smiling but he did not seem unpleasant or scornful either, not like Felix’s other suitors. Instead, the man was contemplative, solemn in his respectful attitude.

“You certainly don’t make it so easy. It astonishes me how hard you work to keep others from stealing you away,” he remarked coolly.

“Yeah, well, I belong to no one. And if they can’t prove their worth to me, they’re not worth my time,” the young man huffed, wiping his mouth. “But, you were...pretty close. Closer than anyone I have ever met.”

The stranger smiled. “Ah, but that means nothing if I didn’t win your hand. Do I at least get a consolation prize for second place?”

Felix stopped; he stared at him, stared at that one blue eye that always traced his every move, no matter where he went. He almost said no and laugh derisively—but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the thought that no suitor up until now was able to get this close to beating him; they struggled even holding the musket and shot aimlessly at the sky while Felix downed as many birds as he could. This was the first time he actually had to fight viciously to keep his spotless record, and the other man was not breaking a sweat.

Or perhaps it was the way the stranger looked at him. While he smiled and spoke like a gentlemen, his only eye betrayed everything. The deep seated, feral lust that ebbed from the bright blue—dark with ill intent and hunger, ready to devour him at that very moment. Felix could imagine the frightening thoughts that raced through that man’s head. Maybe it was good that he won; he did not want to see what this man’s plans were for him once they left Fhirdiad.

Felix sighed, pulling himself up against the tree, and crossed his arms. “What do you have in mind?” he asked.

The stranger brimmed with joy. “All I ask is but a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow—I would love something to remember you by.”

It was just a kiss. At least Felix could give him that—the one who came to his village and condemned him to death. He sighed, rubbed the back of his head, and slowly approached the stranger. They stood inches apart, Felix craning his head up to look the other man in the eye. The stranger’s strong face grinned at him, golden hair falling over his face in slight exhaustion; the bleeding bandages that wrapped tightly around his other eye, and Felix’s heart lurched. Why was it, at this exact moment, did he feel like he has seen this person before. Know them, from somewhere, some time he could not recognize. But where?

Felix never found his answer. Hungry, biting lips captured his own in a possessive kiss, and he froze. A large hand curled up around his back and pulled him in until their chests touched; another hand gripped the back of his neck as the stranger’s tongue darted over Felix’s, dancing into each other’s mouths. He felt the other man’s sharp teeth against his quivering lip, biting and drawing beads of blood through the tongue play.

Felix pulled away, gasping; saliva and blood dripping down from his bruised lips as he wiped them clean. The stranger regarded him darkly, chuckling as he kept his grip tight on the young man. He leaned in close and pressed his lips against Felix’s ear, cold fangs nibbling his earlobe.

“What are you afraid of? Become mine and I will take you away from this accursed place. We will go wherever you like, as far as you want. If you stay here, your father will betray you and leave you as a sacrifice.”

“Are you striking a deal with me? Think I have no such choice? No, I won’t slave myself by giving myself to you. I’m going to escape before the old man has any notions—I don’t need your help.”

“Have it your way, my flower—one way or another, you will be mine.”

Laughter. Felix’s heart turned to ice and he lost his breath when that laugh rang darkly into his ears. A sound from nights before, malevolent and pent full of evil. A sound to devour the Goddess’ light and all that she shined upon the land and her children. A sound to kill him.

Felix violently shoved the stranger away, face white as he shook his head and took off running. He kept running, boots hitting the rough ground; the stranger kept laughing and laughing, the sound chasing Felix all the way to his house.

His heart would not stop pumping.

______________________

Before night, where the villagers began to pile into their homes for the next curfew, Felix had quietly prepared a sack of his belongings. Somehow, his faithful encounter with the beastologist renewed his primal need to flee, and it even made him frantic as he threw everything he could think of inside—canister of water, small blanket, money, extra coats and shoes, two hunting daggers, flint and stone, bullets for his musket, and even some herbs he used for medicine—anything to get him as far as the next village.

Felix should have escaped the moment he saw the remains of the sheep against his outside wall. That should have been the sign. Now he’ll have to slip out when everyone else went back in, and the farmers put out tonight’s cow for more painting practice. His father was getting more mad and demented by the second, the man’s state wavering with dark thought. The Jarl had never been this unstable before, but cracks were showing in his mask. Losing Glenn was one thing but seeing his efforts to save Fhirdiad from an unknown terror was getting to him. It would not be long before he would sacrifice his other son and Felix knew it.

He swung the sack over his back, secured his clothing, tied the straps of his boots together, grabbed his musket. The young man could not help but mutter a strain of apologizes underneath his breath, a pepper of _sorry’s_ to Sylvain, Ingrid, and especially his very dead brother.

Had Glenn been alive, he would never let this happen. He would shield him from his father’s madness and the village’s desperation. But he was sent out to die a bloody death to the beast and Felix was left all alone.

Looking at his bed one last final time, knowing he would never have to sleep in this hell again nor wake up to the sight of his window stained red and putrid, Felix went off. The small window of time he had before the beast showed up to kill the sacrifice and pull it the poor thing apart, Felix had to make a run for it down the valley and across to the mountains beyond. If he could just make it to the nearest village, no one would ever touch him again. He could go where ever he pleased, a freedom only to him—unchained to anyone but his own free will.

Glenn would want that for him. Glenn would not have died knowing the little brother he fought to defend would suffer the same gruesome fate. It was these things that kept Felix going, even if it was selfish.

Felix sighed and crept quietly through the house. His father’s dementia had made sleep incredibly hard for him, and often did the Jarl paced around his room, muttering and chanting incomprehensible things. It usually kept Felix up for a while. But for some reason, he did not hear his father upstairs. In fact, all he received was an ominous silence. But Felix shook his head and tried to ignore it; the old man probably was able to sleep after all.

But this was wrong.

Of course, Felix never could have predicted the whole village surrounding his house with torches nor his own father, the Jarl of Fhirdiad, standing in front of the crowd with a binding of ropes and chains. The man who raised Felix for nineteen years stared directly at his startled son. His eyes, usually overtaken with madness, finally shone with some humanity—remnants of the Jarl before the Beast’s terror. He was crying.

“I’m sorry, Felix. Please forgive me.”

______________________

Felix could not see.

He could not move.

He could not even make a sound as the voices above him ushered each other to move quickly. Warnings that everyone had to be inside soon; to secure him tighter; to tie his feet together so he would not try and kick himself free. Somewhere in the mesh of warnings, he heard the voice of betrayal—his own father, the Jarl of Fhirdiad. It pressed up against his chilled skin, a languishing tone of desperation.

_You understand, don’t you Felix? This is for the good of Fhirdiad.. It will leave us alone forever if we give it you. Please understand—Glenn would have understood. Finally, his death will have meaning. Yours will have meaning. I love you, son—I’m so sorry._

And then, the hands and voices faded away, drifting back away towards the heart of the village and disappearing at the back of Felix’s mind.

 _Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone—I don’t want to die alone. Please don’t leave me alone!_ He wanted to scream, feeling the red hot tears build up into his blindfolded eyes.

But all he made was a maddening, desperate grunt in his mouth guard, tugging along a bit as the chains that bounded his wrists bit into the skin. He groaned and tried to position himself back up but they tied his feet together and he slipped, slamming back against the pole. All around him was unfamiliar darkness that suffocated his very being.

Everything was cold and far away. Everyone had left him to die; his own father actually going through and sacrificing him after all. Betrayal stung like wax in his heart and he sobbed very quietly—he called out for Glenn, but Glenn was dead.

The wind blew, leaves scattering against across the ground. Felix stayed incredibly still, even as his own chest heaved with hypertension. The only sounds he heard were that of the forest. Not a human voice in sight, no comforting murmurs behind doorways. Just him and the great mouth of the forest, leering at him.

And at that moment, Felix wished he had let the stranger win. If he had slowed down just a little and swallowed his pride away, the man would have won. He would have taken Felix away from this damn place and somewhere far. He didn’t even care if he had to play the role of the sweet housewife for some time. It was a better place than here, strapped to the pole for someone’s late-night dinner.

But Felix had no time to bemoan his failures as a human being. He heard it and stopped dead. The very faint sounds of footsteps, the crawl of a heavy animal emerging from the woods. A low, vibrating growl.

Felix nearly pissed himself. He held his breath, listened as his own heart raced to certain death, as the footsteps grew closer—heavier, the imprint of deep claws pulling up dirt and leaving marks against stone. The growl deepened and then Felix felt the waif of hot, nearly scorching airstrike the nape of his neck.

Then it stopped.

Even though he was blindfolded, he knew the beast was right in front of him; he felt the gigantic shadow loom over his bound form, the hot breath blew into his half-crying face and the sniffing of the nose that inspected him. It smelled his neck, his hair, his chest—trying to really catch the scent of this dinner.

Felix could not help himself but cry a bit, hot tears damping his blindfold. So much in his heart that he wished this was another creature—perhaps an actual wolf maybe. But he knew it in his heart, it was the monster he had encountered many nights before.

And it had come to claim him.

Then Felix felt it, the long, hot tongue of the beast as it licked all along his neck, leaving a wet sticky trail from upper collarbone to his chin.

He shuddered and shifted a bit desperately before the werewolf pressed itself entirely on the boy, leaving him completely immobilized.

 _Please just make this quick. Kill me. Gobble up my bones. Suck my blood. Eat my heart. Just make it quick_ , Felix thought in rapid succession as the beast’s sharp claws slowly tore his shirt open, chest exposed to the cold air.

The chill stung his nipples but nothing prepared him when that tongue ran them over, sucking them eagerly like a newborn infant. Felix threw his head back and gave a low moan that he didn’t realize was building up in his throat. Claws traveled gently down his bareback—sharp enough to leave bleeding welts, and soon came upon his tight pants. It gripped on the edges and tore them off the boy in one movement.

Felix stopped. It was not going to eat him, not right away at least. No, it was going to rut with him first.

The tongues traveled down from his neck to his heaving chest, and downwards. Felix felt the sticky hotness taste him intimately, lapping around his twitching cock and against his entrance. The creature growled pleasantly, forcing a bit of its wet tongue in the boy—he choked, tears cutting through his cheeks and he thrashed.

It laughed. The creature laughed again. The sound was terrible. Cruel. Godless. Then Felix felt something monstrously large and twitching pressed up gently against his hole.

It was not the beast’s tongue.

Felix began to cry and gasp but the cloth in his mouth muffled all sounds; the monster chuckled darkly and thrust its entire cock into the boy.

It impaled Felix fully, nearly splitting him into two, and he gave a scream as it began to shallowly rock into him. Its cock was huge, too big for someone as small as him, and all Felix could hear was wet furious slapping sounds. It was hot, a scorching heat building up at the base of his balls and cock—too hot to control and it nearly sent the boy into a crying mess.

The beast snapped the ropes bounding Felix’s legs together and hiked them over its broad, furry shoulders as it took the boy violently. It’s pace quicken, pushing fully into the boy with such brutality that even the pole that bounded Felix began to move. Felix moaned through his tears, opened his legs up more as the creature violently slammed him into him.

His back scratched up roughly against the pole, splinters lodged into his skin. But he didn’t care. Felix was already so far removed that he began to move his own body against the beast, meeting his thrusts with vigor as pleasure shuddering through his body; he tightened around its massively huge cock and felt the wetness turned hot and inward.

Felix’s own cock, hard with squirts of precum, bounced against his body. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even move—just to lie there and allow the creature to utterly dominate his body like some sort of submissive doll.

The beast growled and then bent its head over to lap and vigorously suck on Felix’s unattended cock. He gasped and choked on his gag, completely overstimulated on all ends as he was getting dizzy from both the eager sucking from the beast and the vicious rocking.

Then it struck his prostate—brushed up against it very gently and sent a shock of pleasure coursing through Felix’s body. His cock spewed cum into the beast’s mouth and it lapped it up excitedly; it stopped thrusting momentarily, angled his cock a bit, and then fucked right into the boy’s prostate fully.

At that moment, Felix’s gag loosened and he, with his free mouth, wailed into the night sky. He cried and screamed, sobbing with full tears from over-stimulation; the beast fucked him harder, pleasure ebbing through the boy’s body so quickly that it numbed him—conscious and unconsciousness ebbing between his mind—white and red flashes in his sight. His arousal was empty, already coating his chest with hot fluids.

Felix’s throat burned red and he could no longer scream, giving short moans as the beast thrust through his third orgasm—it was using him as a cock sleeve at this point, fucking without fail.

The pole finally broke against him and Felix fell down against the rough ground—with the beast hiking his legs straight up to the sky and plunging its monster cock straight down into the boy’s abused hole.

It grunted and growled, the pressure building up against its length before it gave one final slam and violently emptied itself into the boy’s guts—liquid much too full for him and it shot back out his entrance like a geyser.

Felix moaned weakly, his body already shutting down, as he lulled his head against the ground—blindfold finally loose. In his last moments of clarity, he watched the creature licking him clean, white fangs shining under the moonlight—the one blue eye of evil regarding him with absolute hunger.

And Felix fell away, thankful he would be long gone when the creature finally devoured his body. Eat him up inside out.

“My beautiful flower...”

______________________

The first thing Felix saw when he finally awoke was the dark, gray outlines of stone, water dripping down, and hitting him coldly against his cheeks. He blinked a bit, eyes trying to re adjust to the dim darkness that shrouded him coolly. There was a lingering pain when he breathed, his chest stinging in small quantities. Felix stared up at the ceiling, not even moving his head from the water droplets.

A cave. Was hell a cave? His father always said that hell was an eternal fire that burned without end and hungered for wounded souls from the earth. But it didn’t feel hot—just a distant coolness against his skin and the air around them. There were faint echos coming in on different directions, merely the traveling sound of water—a river? And the shuttered cry of bats.

After a moment of mindless laying, with Felix attempting to make sense of his new area, he tried to prompt himself up. Only for the absolute sheering pain nested deep in his ass flaring up violently and yelped, falling back down against the strange nest he was sleeping on the entire time. He groaned through gritted teeth and peered around.

For one, Felix was definitely in a cave, a deep one with an intricate system no less, and a river somewhere deep in its center. There was no sunlight coming through but the cave itself with lit many open tunnels and waterways that looped into each other. Felix blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before realizing something soft and warm was draped over him.

Furs—many furs, of different animals it would seem. Skinned and tanned properly, and thrown onto his naked form for warmth. Near his nest was a small open basket, filled with what appeared to be cooked meats and vegetables. The scent hovered over to Felix and he never noticed until now how absoluteness empty and hollow his stomach was; he lurched up, ignoring the tinges of pain sheering from his ass, and began to devour the food down without a second thought.

He did not understand where he was or why he was not even dead, just that he had not eaten in a very long time—so busy eating that he hardly noticed the distant footsteps that echoed through the wide tunnels.

They came closer, slow and deliberate in pace until a pair of boots appeared right on the outside of Felix’s shaky vision. He looked up while chewing on a fish and nearly chocked.

The man smiled.

“You?!”

“Me.”

“You got captured as well?” Felix said, shocked.

The stranger’s one eye blinked very slowly—trying to decipher Felix’s words. His face scrunched up and he busted out in great laughter. Unlike the day before, this laughter was utterly lighthearted and full of humor. He doubled over, slapped his knee, and tried to catch his breath.

Felix looked on, utterly astonished. Did he say something funny? Or was it the sight of him covered in animal furs and munching on fish that seemed humorous?

The man wiped his only eye clean of tears and sat down near Felix, crossed legged. He prompted his chin against his hand and regarded the young man pleasantly, as though they were sitting down for a chat during a house visit.

“What? What’s so funny?” Felix said hesitantly.

“You-You're adorable,” the stranger said honestly with a polite smile.

The young man shook his head derisively. “Look, we need to get out of here before it comes back! Do you have any idea of the way out---”

The stranger reached out and gently closed Felix’s mouth with the side of his thumb; he nodded with a gentle expression, almost placid. “Eat first before you talk. I wouldn’t want you choking,” he advised with a kind voice, kinder than any voice Felix has ever heard from anyone before.

Even Glenn.

He knocked the man’s hand away, swallowed down his fish, and stood up. The pain had numbed over to a dull sensation and he ignored it with a grimace, peering down at his one-eyed companion.

“We don’t have time for this, Mr. monster expert. That _thing_ dragged us here for a reason—it will come back to finish us for sure. We have to escape,” he commanded, crossing his arms together.

The older man hummed—was he amused—and nodded in agreement. “I apologize my dear boy, but I’m terrible with directions. Why don’t you lead and I follow, watch your back for you?”

“Sounds like a plan. Come on. I have no desire to waiting around to be leftovers.”

“Oh, but aren’t you cold?”

“Cold?”

The stranger gestured with a suggestive, smug look towards Felix’s body. The boy had forgotten that he was utterly naked up until now, only covered by the pile of furs for warmth. A harsh blush made its way plainly on Felix’s face as he quickly picked up a long pelt and draped it over his body, wrapping it around his front loosely.

His companion chuckled to himself and stood up, giving Felix some mercy by not making a joke of the situation.

The pair started out of the den and down one of the tunnels; Felix felt the blue eye of the stranger boring holes into his back—but he did not want to look back, suddenly afraid of what he might see. He could only look straight ahead and hoped that his mysterious companion stayed a foot away.

______________________

The stranger’s name was Dimitri.

Like Felix, he, too, woke up here, but sound much too happy than distraught about his situation. Felix figured that he was simply bizarre—their first meeting was nothing but the man teasing and playing around with Felix’s emotions, considering he was partially to blame for the Jarl to sacrifice him. But, at least, Felix was not alone in the beast’s den and found some comfort with Dimitri just standing near him.

The cave system was huge with absolutely no indication of where the mouth was. Every chamber they came across was occupied with the presence of more meats and furs, proving that the cave itself was the monster’s base of operations.

The pair came across a chamber full of uneaten animal carcasses, a chamber for wet skins hanging from the rocks, and another chamber of belongings—probably of its human victims. Felix stopped here and desperately searched the pile for Glenn’s necklace, the one he’d given him a year ago for his birthday. Dimitri stood back and watched solemnly as the boy sighed, defeated.

It was not here. Which could mean that Glenn escaped or that the beast did not claim his necklace as a trophy. Dimitri quietly helped him up and they continued on their way.

Eventually, they stumbled upon that river Felix heard when he woke up—it flowed in from another chamber and glowed blue in the shadows. The boy peered over and noticed a fishing pole stuck to the ground along with a pail—there was a fire pit nearby and a cooking pot. He scoffed and stared at the scene oddly.

“The...the beast knows how to fish? Like, like, how we fish.”

Dimitri shrugged, grinning like a fool. “Such monsters are mysterious in their displays of intelligence. But some do take up human activities out of curiosity.”

Felix shook his head. “That’s fucking sick—something that kills and maims so cruelly cannot be human.”

“You speak as though humans cannot be just as cruel.”

“I...shut up, Dimitri. You’re giving me a headache.”

The man chuckled and patted Felix’s back with encouragement. “Onward, my flower. We may be closer yet.”

The pair continued through the cave system, following the river up to a chamber of glowing mushrooms. It ebbed a luminous white light in the darkness, like fireflies in the summer. There were barrels full of glowing mushrooms pushed to the side, probably collected over a period of days. Dimitri picked one up from the barrel and crushed it in his grip; he then took parts of mushed fungi and rubbed it over the dark marks around Felix’s neck. It stung at first before settling in with some relief.

“Medicinal,” Felix stated, hiding the faint blush on his face.

So the monster also had some knowledge of medicine? Why was it that a goddess creature of darkness had better medical supplies than the village healer? He stared at the ground, studying the peculiar patterns the mushrooms grew around—man-made. Someone took time and arranged them this way. Was it the beast?

His head was spinning with questions. The earlier chambers were natural to that of a monster but everything else now seemed to have been crafted by man, someone who chose to make a living the caves.

Felix did not say anything, quietly accepting the rest of Dimitri’s mushed mushroom salve around the splinters imprinted all over his back. The man’s touch felt oddly warm and Felix stiffened the long fingers that gently smoothed Fungi on his sensitive skin.

Dimitri was being extremely gentle with him, a far cry from the biting kiss that day they hunted—he shook the terrible thought from his mind with a noncommittal grunt and moved on.

The next few chambers confused Felix the most. It was as though they never were in a cave, to begin with—actual rooms he can imagine back at the village; a library filled with books, lanterns, and even a writing table with crumpled up pieces of paper flung in a nearby basket. Felix peered closely at some of the papers on the desk, nearly falling over at the recognition of actual words.

Dimitri, on the other hand, was nonchalantly reading a book he pulled from the high shelf, not once giving any attention to the boy’s small mental breakdown.

The next room was not any better. The river flowed back in from another chamber and its water was being used as a sort of laundry system, with a wash bin and beater placed precariously by the edge; long strings attached from one wall to another had clothes left out to dry. Felix rushed over, eyeing the row of shirts and pants wildly, growing whiter by the second.

“Dimitri, can monsters wear clothes?” he asked softly in disbelief.

“I seen someone dress a wyvern in a party hat.”

“I’m being serious--” he turned around to his companion, only to see that the man had taken one of the long coats off from the drying rack; he patted it down and put it on over his undershirt, draping his entire figure. It fitted perfectly as if it were made for him.

Felix’s mind numbed a bit and he scoffed loudly. “Take that thing off, Dimitri. If we run into that thing, it’ll kill you for wearing its shitty clothing.”

The grin on Dimitri’s face grew, practically lighting up the room. He laughed with his sharp teeth out and ruffled Felix’s hair affectionately. “I think I’ll keep it on. If we do encounter any scary hunters, I’ll protect you,” he teased with an edge of truth.

Felix knocked his hand away and walked on, his face hot red. The last and final chamber, though he knew there were more elsewhere considering all the tunnels they had passed. The final room was warm, warmer than any other place they transverse to, and with good reason.

An overwhelming, invading light flooded Felix’s eyes and looked upon a bedroom. There were lanterns hanging all around the walls, with a warm carpet placed on the bare stone, a drawer for clothes, another desk with some books and a map, and finally, a massive bed, pushed against the back wall.

By ‘massive’, it took up nearly the whole wall itself in size, enough to fit a family of five with some decent blanket room. There were furs covering the bed, it’s warmth inviting to the plain eye.

“Why does it have a bed? I always thought animals sleep on the ground or in a nest they build out of sticks and grass,” Felix remarked in awe, running his hands through the blankets—it all felt handcrafted, as though a professional tanner had been commissioned personally. “How in the world did this thing manage to have an actual bed—it’s even better than my bed back at home.”

“You’re full of assumptions, my flower,” Dimitri cooed and planted himself nonchalantly on the other side of the bed; it sunk slightly with the new weight and he laid down, patting the empty space next to him with a coy smile. “It’s so very warm. Why don’t you lie down and take it all in? I bet you’re all sore from sleeping on the floor.”

“This is no time for games, you fool. That thing will come back,” Felix lectured harshly, moving his body on the bed. The softness of the furs gently caressed his bare thighs and he melted slightly. “If it finds us in bed all snuggled up, it’ll eat us up. Look, this is obviously a dead end. If we take one of the side tunnels we passed on the way here---”

A strong hand shot out and grasped the young man’s arm, yanking him forward. Felix yelped and fell right on top of Dimitri’s solid form, head buried right on the man’s stone chest. Two strong arms shot out and possessively coiled around Felix’s slender waist, keeping him still against the body. The two men stared at each other, one too dumbfounded to talk, and the other grinning like he won a prize. Felix opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out; a realization struck his so terribly that he lost his breath.

Dimitri’s great blue eye stared at him, unwavering, darkening with emotions too complicated to decipher; he brushed his unruly blonde locks back, revealing his other eye, or rather, the empty, scarred socket where an eye used to be. He pulled back his lips and smiled wolfishly at Felix—white, killing fangs shining right in the young man’s face. A hot breath surged, scorching even.

Felix’s heart dropped and his blood iced cold; his sweaty hands clasped together, bunched tightly around the man’s black coat, and he chuckled nervously.

“Uh, why don’t you lie here, and I’ll go and check out the rest of the cave,” he suggested lightly and tried to move, but Dimitri’s arms remained strapped tightly around his back.

The man chuckled against the nape of Felix’s neck. He leaned over to the boy’s ears with a bemused growl. “Oh, but I think we should stay right where we are, don’t you agree, Felix?”

Hearing his name hiss through Dimitri’s teeth like steam made Felix stiffen; he shuddered violently, berating himself over and over in his mind. How did he not notice this sooner—the signs were so clear and yet, somehow, he fell right into a trap. It was like a mouse walking almost willingly into a snake’s hungry grip, every movement bringing it closer to death by the second.

In this case, Felix was just waiting for the inevitable set of fangs to sink into his jugular, finally claiming him for dinner.

But no such attack came.

Instead, Dimitri brought his hand up and moved his thumb underneath Felix’s eyes. They were wet with tears he did not realize were there.

“Don’t cry, my flower—I won’t hurt you,” Dimitri cooed lovingly, bringing their foreheads together. His one eye closed and he breathed in the boy’s scent—an expression of absolute euphoria. “I would never hurt you, ever. You’re mine.”

“I...”

“Did you enjoy the house tour? I know it’s not exactly like your house back at the village, but we can liven it up. Maybe throw a few carpets down, here and there. If you don’t like sharing a bed, I can make you a new one—put in a chamber nearby. It’s your choice, honestly.”

Felix’s lips quivered, unable to find the strength to speak, even make a sound. He couldn’t even think properly, with his mind so far away from his body that he became a mere shell. But it did nothing to quell the swelling violence in

Dimitri nuzzled their cheeks together, humming pleasantly a song from a language unknown to the human ear. His other arm, which was still wrapped tightly around Felix’s torso, moved down a bit; thumb making small circles at the curve of his spine.

“You’re so cold—I should have just left you here in the beginning, but I had to go fetch something,” he murmured, placing biting kisses all along the boy’s neck. He kicked up one of the fur blankets from the end over their bodies and rolled over so Felix’s body was lying on the other side—Dimitri kept his hold tight and snuggled closely, content. “You must be so tired—go to sleep. I’ll keep you warm all night.”

Felix was finally about to say something, but Dimitri’s lone eye closed and the beast-man immediately fell into a deep sleep.

He watched him for a minute, before shifting a bit under the covers—only for Dimitri’s arms to tighten around him, pressing their hot bodies together. Felix stayed very still; he wished he knew what he should even do in such a situation. Could he slip away from Dimitri’s grasp and make a run for it? But he didn’t know where the mouth of the cave was and considering all the chambers, it was a grave risk.

But Felix also feared for sleep, that Dimitri would wake up and take the opportunity to eat him. Then again, it was just them—the man could have done that any time. Why didn’t he?

Felix stared at his captor, brows drawn deeply in thought—questions far too many for concise answers. And the only thing that dominated his mind at the moment was how warm Dimitri’s body was, or how strangely handsome his face was with the blue of hie eyes and the gold of his hair. Like a king almost, had it not been for the clear fact that his true form was that of a starving, murderous beast.

Felix’s eyes slowly dropped as their breathing synchronized, and he slipped into a warm, loving darkness he had not felt since Glenn was still alive.

______________________

“Why me?”

Felix did not understand how he got here. He’d never imagined that he would be sitting on a bed fit for a king, covered in at least five layers of heavy fur blankets over his naked body, watching what was supposed to be the monster feasting on his body, skin apples with a knife. It was easier to explain to the Jarl that his son was most certainly slaughtered and devoured like a common goat than being fed and tended to like some kind of princess. He even pinched himself a few times, wondering if this was all a dream and that he really did die that night.

But Dimitri kept humming, passing over plates of sliced apples to the young man with an amiable expression, and Felix sighed back into this strange reality he found himself in.

“Is it because I shot your eye out? I think the expected reaction is murder, not...this,” he said, accepting the food reluctantly.

“Perhaps. But would it be so terrible if I told you no one has ever maimed me in such a manner? Or that the one who took my eye turned out to be the most dangerous beauty I laid my eyes on.”

Felix’s face reddened hot and he turned his gaze downward to the carpet; he detested how plainly this thing spoke to him—with such earnestly, as though it didn’t terrorize Felix for days with all of the rejected village tributes.

“So, for an eye, you decided to…,” Felix waved his hand around, gesturing around the room and then to him, “play house?”

Dimitri smiled simply. “Play house? That would imply a fantasy that would come to an end. No, my flower, you were offered to me in place of leaving the village alone forever. And I graciously accepted.”

His words drifted from a pleasant tone, but even Felix could sense the underlying threat beneath it; it was a dark implication that made his stomach curl dully, and he shifted beneath the covers for protection.

“So...when am I going to get eaten?”

Dimitri’s knife stopped right at the skin and he snickered derisively. “Eaten? My love, why would I eat you?”

“Because you ate the others—the ones my old man sent after you, including my brother. And then all the people you snatched from the village,” Felix pointed out with a deep glare.

“You carry dangerous prejudices, Felix. Human meat is terrible—though I don’t mind tasting yours every night,” Dimitri said, licking his lips at the flushed boy. “I killed them when they came after me, with the corpses being nothing but reminders to your father to stop in his poor attempts to subdue me. And as for your brother—the raven-haired hunter, yes?”

Felix nodded slowly.

“Yes, well, he was the only one that escaped. I’m not sure how he eluded my rage, but he slipped down into the forests and never emerged. I was actually worried that he might come back for me, but he never did.”

“So...you didn’t kill Glenn?”

“I did not kill your brother—you have my word. I do not know why he did not return to the village, but rest assured, he escaped my grasp.” Dimitri continued cutting apples with a sweet smile. “As for the others, they were not so fortunate.”

The bundled figure on the bed physically sank into the bed, curled up in a little ball of furs and warm wool. Glenn was not dead, at least, not slaughtered by Dimitri. There was hope that he was alive, somewhere out there.

A rare smile carved its way across Felix’s usually scornful expression and he hugged his stomach to quell the rising excitement that throbbed within him. If Glenn survived Dimitri, then he was most definitely alive. The forest would not kill him—he taught Felix how to survive nature itself. But why didn’t Glenn return home? Did he, like Felix, took the opportunity and made a run for it? Found their father’s ways too oppressive and suffocating?

Felix shook his head of these insecurities: Glenn would never abandon him. It would not be long before he returned...which meant.

Felix looked up at Dimitri. To think a monster’s true form was that of a human man, a tall man with the dignities of a king, taunt with muscles, and a sharp face that even Felix would be fooled by. And then there was his missing eye, which Dimitri took on rather casually, as though he lost some coins rather than a physical limb on his body.

This one was an enigma.

“What are you, exactly?” He asked coolly. “Your true face, I mean—Man or beast?”

“Both,” Dimitri said, nodding off. “They’re both the real me.”

“But you hunt and eat like a predator.”

“As do you humans. As if you don’t stalk the forests and slaughter the creatures within. We’re not so different.”

“The forest did not need to chain animals to a post as a sacrifice in fear for their lives,” Felix muttered with narrowed eyes.

Dimitri laughed, but it was strangely pained and far away. “I won’t justify anything to you, Felix. I’m a cruel monster, one who lives off of the terror of others. I saw Fhirdiad as an easy meal ticket and used the people’s fears to my advantage. But I never expected to run into someone as precious as you—I’d say it was a good decision on my part.”

He glanced at Felix, sporting a wide, proud grin. All of his teeth are not human, Felix understood that now, for it was impossible for man to have such dangerous teeth, canines sharp enough to rip the skin from bone. It is the sight of death, the last thing the hunter sees before the darkness.

Felix frowned. “You think I’ll just accept being your new wife, is that it? That I will just sit here and give up everything I ever wanted in life.”

“I’m not asking you to give everything—you can still do everything you ever wanted. I’ll give it all to you. But the only thing you never do is leave me. You’re mine.”

Mine. A powerful word. A stronger chain. And a threat of a darker, more sinister nature beneath the golden man’s unwavering smile of adoration. Yet, for some reason, the stupid pride in Felix swelled up tenfold and he growled back in response. “I’m not yours. I belong to no one but myself. And if you think that I will sit here like a doll, then you are sorely mistaken.”

The smile that came on Dimitri’s face did not belong to a man.

His hand stopped, fingers still curled around the handle of the knife. And then, the only eye of oceanic blue closed in on itself in patience. Patience is not a good virtue among beasts; it meant the wait before the hunt.

“Twenty seconds.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you twenty seconds to run. If you can reach the mouth of the cave, I’ll let you go. I will leave you and your people alone forever.”

Felix’s throat bobbled, air cutting out of his lungs. “And...what if you catch me?”

White fangs shone in hunger. “I will eat you.”

The young man took off running, his bare feet hitting the carpet as he swept out of the room like a blizzard. He did not even look back to see if Dimitri was counting; the man was too distracted cutting apples, not a care in the world

______________________

Felix never had a chance, to begin with.

Even if Dimitri had given him thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes, it was impossible for Felix to navigate through the complicated cave system—tunnels looped around each other; some led to completely dead ends; some chambers were untouched and devoid of light, so Felix could progress no further unless he wanted to get completely lost in the tunnels below, where even Dimitri could not reach him.

Then he heard the footsteps echoing from deep within, somewhere back the way he came, slow and deliberate. Just like the night of sacrifice. Footsteps carried on knowingly, in one direction without a second thought of hesitation. It would not be long before they would find his way to Felix.

The young man slumped against the cold wall of one of the inner chambers. There was nothing here but wet rocks, a small pond, and a few mushrooms. It seemed like not even Dimitri ventured this far yet, but that would not matter; he would find him. Felix knew he lost the minute he left the bedroom.

It was all rigged from the start.

The shadows stretched ominously from the tunnels ahead, slipping wider into Felix’s dark chamber until it merged with the shadows and returned back to a lone figure standing right at the entrance. Even from where he was, Felix could see the single blue eye glowing ominously in the darkness; it scanned the entire chamber in one slow sweep until it landed on Felix’s sullen gaze.

It narrowed to a thin azure slit and that damned laughter came about again—cruel and mocking, that which could only belong to a ravenous beast. Felix did not move, already too fatigued from running, and resigned to his fate.

Perhaps it was better to be eaten than to live as a slave. Glenn would agree. Maybe he would find Felix’s bones among the earth and know pride, that his little brother had kept his dignity somehow.

Dimitri approached the fallen boy and knelt down rather intimately near him. But the man’s expression was far from affectionate and he grinned smugly.

“I must say, it took me longer to find you than I thought,” he quipped.

Felix wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down. “And yet, I’m still here.”

“You’re still here. It pains me that you sound so disappointed.”

“I thought...I had a chance...”

A strong hand gently grasped Felix’s chin and forced him to look back up; Dimitri’s face was inches away from his, inspecting him closely with the sort of scrutiny one might expect a collector to a priceless vase. He did not smile, only running his long finger along Felix’s jawline.

“If you’re going to eat me, could you at least make it quick?” the boy huffed suddenly, finally showing his long-restrained fear. “And if you see my brother, would you spare him? He’s a good man—nothing like my old man...please.”

“Oh my sweet boy, I think you’re confusing my appetite.”

“Come again?”

Dimitri said nothing. He brought his hands down to Felix’s ankles and gently dragged the boy down until his back was on the stone, cold floor. Felix had long discarded his furs and was completely naked; his face flushed blood red, but he made no move to cover himself—what was the point of modesty when he was going to die?

Dimitri’s blue eye traced the slender body before him, licking his lips as a murky lust clouded his sight. Finally, the man took Felix’s soft thighs and, in a sudden motion, spread them out open.

The boy gasped loudly and instantly reached to cover himself, only for the man’s hand to slap him away.

It was embarrassing, to be so utterly exposed and open like this, presenting himself as a common dog in heat. Felix’s breathing grew heavy and deep, he covered his eyes, hoping Dimitri would just kill him instantly before devouring from bottom to top.

The other man was staring intently at Felix’s arousal, which shamefully hardened at the hard attention it was receiving. Felix kept his eyes away and waited for that inevitable bite of death that would send him screaming to the goddess.

Of course, the boy didn’t know that while the results would later prove to be the same, the journey there was unexpected.

Because Dimitri, without a second thought, began to eagerly lap Felix’s twitching length. He sucked a bit on the balls before tasting the tip vigorously, a trail of saliva dripping down the shaft. Finally, he took the boy’s entire cock in his mouth.

The sudden hotness made Felix cry out and he reached out to push Dimitri’s head away. But the man’s tongue curled all around his arousal as he sucked it down his throat deeply. Felix felt it strike the back of Dimitri’s throat and he bobbed his head, drinking in everything with the thirst of a dehydrated traveler.

A heat began to swell painfully at the base of Felix’s balls, threatening to burst with pleasure; it was nearly sending him into a frenzied state as Dimitri’s mouth continued to suck and drink in his cock quickly, the slick skin pressing everything together.

Soon, without realizing it, Felix started to thrust into Dimitri’s eager mouth, groaning loudly; his hands gripped the man’s blonde hair tightly for balance as he fucked passionately down the man’s hot throat.

The pulsing, swelling heat ebbed dangerously and began to travel up his cock—veins pumping and his entire arousal lengthen—Dimitri made a pleased noise and used his tongue to probe the tip of Felix’s cock before wrapping around the shaft, still sucking quickly. Felix continued to fuck and abuse his captor’s mouth with erratic, short thrusts—he felt it, it was coming. Building very slowly up his length until it practically swelled purple at the tip.

With one final great thrust, Felix shoved his cock right at the back of Dimitri’s throat and cried out, completely emptying himself into the man. Dimitri took it in excitedly, drinking up all of the boy’s hot spent, with some overflowing with saliva down his chin.

Finally, he pulled his head back, lips giving a loud pop at the tip; his handsome face was cover in spit and cum, and he looked so pleased and full, Felix was sure that he hungered no longer.

Felix stayed very still in the group, half crying from the venture, and especially the violent over stimulation that lingered dully in the cock. He was too tired, fatigued from his earlier running, and now this.

Dimitri licked the rest of the cum from his face, laughed lovingly, and cradled Felix in his arms. The boy’s head lulled against the broad chest, and he looked up at his captor, the beast of Fhirdiad. The one-eyed demon that terrorized humanity.

And somehow, Felix’s heart waned a bit at the sight of the demon regarding him in complete and utter worship, like the goddess herself.

He said nothing, only closing his eyes and allowing himself to be carried back through the tunnels in half-sleep.

That night, they curled into each, Dimitri’s strong-arm thrown over Felix protectively, the young man’s head buried into his chest. He had long passed into sleep, one he did not wake from for a long time.

______________________

For the next days, Felix adjusted himself to his new surroundings.

Dimitri had allowed him free access to the cave, even encouraging him to find the mouth if he wanted to. Of course, the tone was joking, lighthearted in his belief that Felix would never find it without his aid. But Felix did not care—he had already resigned himself to being the monster’s plaything, albeit, treated more lovingly and affectionately than he expected.

Dimitri gave him a few clothes to wear—all of them too big considering how much taller and larger the beast was, so Felix walked around the caves with a dress-length undershirt.

Every morning, Dimitri went off to hunt with the promises that he would stay far from the village. And every morning, Felix watched his captor leave, his strong back disappearing into the dark shadows of the cave and beyond. The young man then spent the entire day exploring the chambers; he drifted through the different rooms, inspecting everything from all of Dimitri’s books to even clumps of his writing. And the more he looked, the more invested he became over a seemingly hostile monster.

The beast read refined literature from a variety of topics, some of which, Felix was interested in. Some on gunplay, some on proper tanning and skinning techniques for tailor shops, and some were on different cities and regions around the country. These were the ones Felix read all day—the cities beyond Fhirdiad. And there were many.

Dimitri also had a large map which he had hanging in his bedroom. It was worn down, marked with red circles and lines that darted all over the place. As it turned out, the beast had dens all over the country, all near major villages and towns. The caves here in Fhirdiad was only one of many.

By the time Dimitri returned, usually in his monstrous form—the image of the great standing wolf looming over in the entranceway to the bedroom, covered in blood—Felix was in bed, buried beneath a mountain of fur blankets and reading one of the books. After Dimitri transformed back, which proved to be an instantaneous procedure without much fanfare, he brought over animal meat and skins and laid them near Felix’s feet excitedly. A dog showing off a bone it had found in the woods.

Felix would stare at them plainly before returning to his book. Dimitri would laugh, press soft kisses all along his lover’s face and neck, and carried his kill for the day in the other chambers for preparation.

Sometimes, Felix would get up and walk over, watching him cook meat in silence before taking his share and walking off to eat in isolation. Other days, he felt brave enough to sit near Dimitri during dinner—those days, Dimitri was the happiest at Felix’s company and edged forward just to be closer to him.

Eventually, the gifts got more extravagant. Meats and furs became precious gems Dimitri stumbled upon in the wilderness. Sometimes rare birds and prized creatures most hunters would spend years finding. Felix practically fainted at the sight of an albino stag Dimitri dragged in and threw at his feet—a stag Glenn spent five years tracking before he ultimately gave up when it made a mad dash down the valley.

Together, the pair skinned the beautiful pelt, with Dimitri ultimately fasting a white cloak of Felix’s size to gift upon him. It fitted nicely along his shoulders and Felix did the best to hide his blush as he threw insults at the beast and walked away.

Finally, Dimitri brought Felix a brand new musket—sleek with silver and brass, and purchased from a village a day out. The young man watched in utter distraught as the beast gently laid the weapon down in his shaking hands, a kneeling knight offering a sword to his princess.

Felix tried his best not to drop it as he lifted it up and inspected the craftsmanship. This musket was the type of gift he could only receive on his proposed wedding day to one of his father’s associates.

Dimitri playfully tapped on the young man’s shoulder, nodding towards the cave, and mouthed the word, ‘hunt’.

That was the first time Felix smiled at him. Even it was small.

A redness burned clearly upon Dimitri’s face and he turned away to hide his flustered state. He led Felix out of the cave—the mouth was revealed to have been a hidden path through all the dark twists and turns of the darkest parts of the cave—a way to discourage any stragglers from passing through. Felix was actually only three chambers away from escaping, apparently. Not that he was complaining, strangely enough, as Dimitri’s protective hand clasped over his own.

After a day of hunting, in which Felix still kept his spotless record to his utter joy, they retired for the night as they did every night—curling up against each other and buried under a mountain of blankets.

Some nights, as expected, Dimitri wanted to ‘eat him’ again as such was their euphemism. Felix, who initially took on the act with as much hostility as he did in the beginning, slowly found himself melting in Dimitri’s loving hands.

What was once aggressive and utter animalistic lust became a very slow and attentive love. The bigger man would plant a trail of kisses down Felix’s trembling form, hands exploring all around the most vulnerable parts with care. They merged into one another, with Dimitri muttering sweet praises of love into the boy’s ears as he took him slowly, lovingly.

There were nights where Felix laid back and allowed Dimitri to do whatever he pleased with his body, which usually ended with him in a sticky, crying mess. His lover would clean him up and kiss the crying away until they fell asleep. And then there were the rare days where Felix felt brave enough to lead the charge—forcing the beast down on the bed and rode its monstrous cock until it roared and spilled into him violently. But it always ended in the two passed out in each other’s arms.

And it was one night after a few hours of slow love that Felix, peering upon the sleeping face of Dimitri—the half-man, half-monster—that he realized something absolutely terrible and wonderful at once. In the rare moment of this solitude, Felix shyly moved closer to Dimitri’s face, eyes wandering in short, erratic movements, searching for signs of waking.

And then, he placed a careful kiss against the man’s cold lips. Felix pulled away quickly with the recoil of a child touching fire. His cheeks stung with passion and he rolled over to the other side, burying his face in the blankets.

Never did he catch the sleepy, knowing glint of his bedmate, smiling like a renewed god.

______________________

“Do you miss Fhirdiad?”

Felix’s sunset eyes rolled up to where Dimitri was staring down at him.

The cave had natural, underground springs, with many chambers hosting their own saunas of some sort. Felix had often relaxed there, spending hours bathing his bruised, sticky body in the warm mineral waters that flowed through. In the beginning, he refused to have Dimitri come anywhere near him, and the two bathed in separate saunas despite retiring to the same room every night. Of course, the situation was much different now: Felix understood that well.

After a long day of hunting, the young man usually was the one who pulled his companion in for a leisurely bath as Dimitri had a nasty habit of forgetting and slept in his bloody clothes.

The pair sat nestled into each other, Felix collapsing against Dimitri’s chest as the man washed his back. He tried to ignore the fact that such moments like this were wholly intimate, especially with the way Dimitri ran his fingers through Felix’s dark hair or how he captured secret kisses along his shoulders and neck. Hands gently making paths down his thighs and clasping over his arousal.

Despite this, they never made love in the water—just sitting and enjoying the sounds quietly.

Dimitri was the first to break the silence, though his question was very soft and amiable, no such invasion to Felix’s mood. The young man hummed and touched his partner’s wrist.

“I miss my older brother.”

“Not your village?”

“Hardly,” Felix grumbled. “This cave is actually a vacation compared to that place. Every day was hell: my old man would introduce me to all of his business partners, obviously trying to marry me off. Then you have all the stupid fools that waddle in every week, asking for my hand. ‘Marry me and I’ll give you whatever you want! You’ll never have to work again’ or some shit like that. And I’d challenge them to a hunt, where they lose and throw curses at me like a drunk. It was the same shit everyday—sometimes, they get creative and try to seduce me, take me into the bedroom and show me how great they are. Little shits can’t handle a knife through the hand, I can tell you that much.”

Dimitri brushed Felix’s hair back, pressing butterfly kisses on the top of his head. “Why didn’t you ever leave?’

“I...I didn’t want to leave my brother behind. He was the only reason why I tolerated so much bullshit in the first place. You have no idea the relief I felt when you told me that Glenn escaped.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Pardon?”

He turned around slightly, catching the man’s longing gaze. Any sort of humor or sarcasm he searched for, he found none in place of a deep, rigid solemness that demanded an honest response. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, Felix trying to find the words to placate what he really felt. But instead, he lulled his head against Dimitri’s still chest, catching the quickness of the man’s heartbeat, and asked, “If I say yes, will you let me go?”

“Yes,” Dimitri said hushed, without a beat. It was a pure, earnest reply and reveled in his low melancholy. Felix’s hand slowly waded through the water and latched onto the man’s shivering hand; for the first time, he was able to feel Dimitri’s fear—an emotion beyond the terrifying strength and confidence so he often oozed.

“Why would let me go after everything?”

“I...” Dimitri sucked his teeth. “I want you to be happy.”

“And you came to this conclusion now? What about all that stuff before about me being yours?” Felix murmured, closing his eyes. The man rested his head on his shoulders, breathing, taking his scent in entirely.

After a while, he finally said in a small, human voice, “I love you.”

Were monsters capable of love? In the same way, humans felt for each other? Was it not all driving instincts of lust, hunger, and destruction?

Felix always figured there was some falsehood to his father’s teachings. He was but a man, of course. No such prophet to a degree what exactly the Goddess’ thoughts were. Even Glenn showed some skepticism.

Felix stared up at the glowing pool they waded in, watching the water sparkle and swirl in the darkness. Dimitri’s hand was still shaking, his heart—a very human heart, was still beating violently. And his entire body went rigid, stuck against Felix’s frame in anticipation.

“Dimitri,” Felix called out without looking.

“Yes?”

“I would like to see my brother again.”

“Oh. Yes, as you wish,” Dimitri said, a voice so inaudible that it came out as a mere whisper against Felix’s ear. But the younger man lifted a hand up as if to silence him.

“Not finished,” he grunted. “After we see him and make sure he’s okay, I want you to pack our things for your den in Derdriu.”

A moment of silence, of clarity. A silent gasp escaped the man’s lips, which made Felix’s heart jolt, to see how suddenly overwhelmed and expressive Dimitri was now. His hand clasped over Felix’s tightly, fingers lapping into each other in a tight vice. He buried his face in the exposed nape of the younger man’s neck, fangs probing the skin lightly.

“I read a lot of books about Derdriu. It sounds like a lively city—better than this wet, frozen hell, don’t you agree, Dima?”

 _Dima._ The larger body behind him shuddered slightly and he wrapped his strong arms around Felix’s torso, bringing him into a possessive hug.

“Yes…,” he whispered in a shaky voice.

“We’ll have to pack just for the trip. I have no doubt your den there is already renovated? Though I read that Derdriu is humid so we can just ditch the heavy clothing in a closet or somewhere. Well, what do you think?”

Something wet touched Felix’s shoulder, and it was not the river water they were bathing in.

“Yes, that sounds...wonderful.”

______________________

Happiness doesn’t last.

Felix should have never been the fool and believed so. It was so easy to chase feelings of euphoria without realizing that the run will come to an end.

And Felix’s end was quicker than he imagined. Perhaps it was the brushing bride persona he had so quickly taken on during his stay with Dimitri, that he had forgotten two very important things.

One, Dimitri, at his core, was still a beast. A monster that has killed and slaughtered before. Often without remorse.

And two, hunters.

Of course, Felix would have never predicted that after the pair collected their things for the long journey ahead—with he, sporting the white cloak Dimitri had made for him, and the prized musket—that they would have unexpected company in the forest.

The first thing Felix saw when he followed Dimitri through the overgrowth and towards the steep cliff looking the valley, was a party of faces that practically made him jump in a rare joy.

The faces of some of his neighbors—people he often hunted and ate with. Friends like Ingrid and Sylvain, standing side by side, draped in hunter’s garments and carrying muskets. Their eyes lit up in a special recognition at the sight of Felix, and he stepped forward to call them out—until he saw him.

Standing in the middle of the party, a dark intimidating figure of dark misty eyes and raven hair, a look of fury Felix had known for all nineteen years of his life. His throat bobbed painfully with a sob and he called out happily,

“Glenn—“

His brother’s musket shot up along with everyone else and Felix stopped dead. He froze, staring right in the dangerous center of the barrel. It started to rain, cloaking the woods around them in a curtain of fog and water.

Felix choked.

“Glenn...what are you doing?”

“Step slowly away from the beast, Fe,” Glenn commanded harshly. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“What are you talking about? Dimitri is no beast,” he said nervously, glancing over his shoulder to his tall companion.

The man, however, was not looking at him. He was staring dark-eyed at Glenn, Ingrid, and Sylvain. Throat visibly tightened red with anger, teeth slightly baring. A growl emerged from within, and Felix could feel the rage building up.

Glenn’s eyes lowered. “That thing is a werewolf—I have seen it transform and maul my men to pieces! And now it has stolen my little brother? No, it dies today—“

“Glenn, no!”

Felix was not sure who moved first. Was it Glenn who commanded the first shot? Was it Dimitri who finally caved in and transformed? He was not sure, because he felt Dimitri shove him away to the ground and the sound of bullets and roaring echoed through the veils of rainwater.

Felix could not see, eyes too wet and disoriented to catch the scene above him. He only heard the frantic yells of Ingrid, the sounds of muskets going off rapidly, and Dimitri’s roar.

And then he roared no longer.

Felix pushed himself up against a tree and finally looked up. A few feet away, he spotted his lover.

Dimitri, the beast, standing on its hind legs, claws furrowed out and teeth bared, was stumbling. Blood gushed out of its mouth in small bubbles, it’s throat and chest oozing red. He could only watch with wide eyes, as the beast staggered back.

Dimitri stared back at Felix with its only eye, the eye left behind since their faithful encounter that night. And at that moment, the creature gave a weakened smile, mouthed a language only they understand, and plunged over the cliff.

Felix’s feet instantly moved forward and he nearly fell over too had it not been for Glenn there to catch him. A glimpse of blonde fur descending in the misty canyon below, too far to ever be reached.

Glenn hugged his younger brother, whispering words of soft relief. Felix stared down at the abyss, the last bits of his heart dying away to cold stone.

And everything, with time, faded away to a bitter memory.

______________________

The year moved on quickly in a blur.

Glenn and the others had returned home, triumphant, with young Felix trailing behind. The entire village celebrated the hunting party as heroes—the ones who finally put an end to their suffering.

Glenn, in particular, the survivor of the first hunting party, made no secret of his want to usurp his demented father. He stood right at the Jarl’s hall, musket in hand, as he demanded his old man to step down. A harsh resentment burning in the older brother’s voice, clearly troubled by the Jarl’s sacrifice of Felix.

Surprisingly, the Jarl gave up his seat without a fight and retired in silence—often muttering to Felix how much he missed him. While there was truth to his words, Felix never looked his father in the eye again.

Once Glenn became the Jarl, the first thing he did was build a wall around the village, and assign a system of guards and hunters to protect the village. The young ruler was, to no one’s surprise, adept at his father’s role. No such madness fell upon him like the former Jarl and he sported the long scar across the bridge of his nose—from the tragedy of the first hunt—as a trophy and proof of his strength.

As for Felix, the younger brother and Fhirdiad’s flower became a doll. He no longer spoke or lashed out harshly, instead of moving with the sort of subduing docile nature one might expect from a disquieted housewife. He stopped hunting, though clung onto his musket like a limb, even refusing to part with it in sleep.

To the people, the sudden shift in the younger man’s mood was simply from his terrible captivity with the beast. He carried his musket out of fear and slept with it in the expectation that he will be taken away again.

Of course, no one was there for the moments where Felix hugged his weapon, dull eyes suddenly brimming with tears. Or how he wore his rare white cloak at all times, washing it with care and love rarely seen. Even Glenn could no longer reach him like he used to, the distance between the brothers lengthening to a mile.

But Felix continued in his tradition of rejecting suitors with Glenn often acting as a wall between the more aggressive men pursuing his beautiful younger brother.

Then came the day, a full year after the rescue, that Felix, finally showing signs of his recovery, formerly asked permission to move away.

Glenn did not question him. Perhaps the older brother always knew it in his heart that Felix hated Fhirdiad. He always wanted to leave, even when he was younger.

Now, Felix was a man. Aged twenty and as beautiful as a black winter rose. His hair was longer, settled nicely against his shoulders. But his eyes were still dull, merely amber stones in a river.

Glenn could not deny Felix his request. Despite everything they were still brothers and loved each other dearly. He gave his younger brother a hug, gifted him money and a handcrafted hunter dagger, and wished him luck in the world.

By the night, Felix departed Fhirdiad—white cloak thrown over his shoulders and prized musket—silver has worn down from an entire year, in hand.

The first thing the young man did was transverse the deep woods until he came across the mouth of the den. Moss and vines had grown over it so he cut his way through and down the chambers.

Nothing had changed, except for the layer of dust that settled on all of the furniture. Everything was left the way they placed it, clean and orderly. The fishing poles, tanning racks, the library was dark and empty—the books Felix had read still open to Derdriu’s blue coasts.

Finally, when Felix came upon the bed he had shared, still folded nearly with the furs laying on top, the young man flung himself down, taking in the scent deeply, before falling into a rare sleep.

When the dawn came, Felix reluctantly drifted out of his cold, empty home, looking back one last time before heading out and following the horizons beyond.

He passed down and through the icy valley, feet dragging on for the longest time until he came upon a village unknown nestled near the mountains.

The people welcomed him feverishly, some already enamored with the mysterious beauty. Without another word, Felix rented an inn and stayed for the night.

It was always for a night, however. He never stayed for long, always leaving in the morning with some food and water, and headed out further east.

He took on odd jobs here and there, usually hunting and selling meats to different towns he came across the way on his journey. There was always a man or two who proposed to Felix, and the same challenge goes it was before. No one outshot him in a hunt, not with the silver musket in his hands.

Eventually, after a long month of quiet travel and sightseeing grand places of nature, turn from icy frost to colorful plains of summer, Felix reached the blue coasts of Derdriu, a yellow paradise with laughing birds, sun-kissed merchants, and a sparkling ocean that stretched to the world beyond.

The raven-haired beauty touched his musket, brought it to his lips, and said softly, “We’re finally here, Dimitri.”

______________________

A year later, Felix got himself a house by the coast after impressing the Count with a pile of bears he hunted down personally along with the ivory forests.

It was a small place, too simple for the son of a Jarl. But the oceanic view was breathtaking, and the sun always stuck through the windows in a happy greeting.

In Derdriu, there were not many hunters but fishermen. However, this did not mean that they didn’t need any at all, especially ones as skilled as Felix. He took on a variety of jobs by the day, both shooting down meats for local butchers to going after wolves that had startled the livestock. It was a job that kept him distracted and busy for weeks on end.

And at the end of a long day, he’d retire to the tavern for a long drink and the soft stories of the barkeeper. It was no secret that Felix’s beauty had continued to keep him in the traditions of marriage proposals.

Many men of Derdriu were not so forward with their intentions, not like the northern men of Fhirdiad. They came to Felix with deceit and honey-coated words, hungry eyes often running down the man’s slender frame and milk thighs. Their fingers twitching violently.

But no one outshot him. No one. And Felix continued his life in solitude, brushing off the lustful eyes that followed his every step. To many, it would be easy to assume that he simply was playing extremely hard to get.

No one predicted that the man lost his heart a long time ago.

One night, after a long hunt, Felix prompted himself down at his usual stool, back facing the room. There were very few people here tonight, only some disgruntled husbands drinking in a corner. He ordered his usual and kept his head down low.

And then, a stranger’s voice invaded his thoughts, a voice too far away and yet one he had heard of before. But it was a painful sound which he failed to recognize. 

He lifted his head up, scowled at the hooded cloaked figure before him, and hissed out, “what?”

The stranger chuckled—a sound too painful for Felix’s ears—and leaned in. He was tall, looming almost; Felix’s dead heart pulsed slightly.

“I said, you’re quite beautiful.”

“Thanks, now go away. I have no time for your pretty words. Charm doesn’t work on me.”

The stranger stirred a bit, his face hidden in the shadow of his cloak. But the wolfish smile was present—sharp teeth shining out from the darkness.

Something was wrong: Felix’s hand started to shake and he turned away in defiance. What was happening to him? Why does everything hurt all of a sudden?

“How may I win your hand, then?”

“You really want to try?” He asked, laughing mockingly.

The stranger nodded rather eagerly. “Of course, just a chance to make you mine.”

Felix rolled his eyes. This was the fifth time this week and the challenge was starting to move to be a bore to him. The raven-haired beauty stood up, silver musket in hand as he glared at the mysterious stranger and huffed.

“You want this hand? You’ll have to win it—hunt birds with me.”

The stranger smirked, teeth showing in a teasing, hungry fashion. Suddenly, Felix felt young again. But he hardly understood why.

The pair went out to the dark field, in the great upper plains of Gloucester where the shadows falcons and hawks covered the dim sky in search. The stranger had a musket of his own, already secured to under his long cloak.

As always, Felix started the hunt without a single word. To him, hunting with suitors was a chore, one he needed to complete every week. It was tiring, it was boring, but it simply had to be done.

However, he felt the shift the minute their weapons went off. Like clockwork, the stranger’s own kills were meeting with Felix’s, in the same speed and reload time.

And unlike Felix, who had begun to panic under the pressure of this new challenger, the stranger kept completely cool—as if hunting was natural to him.

Felix bit his lips, continually shooting up at the sky and watching the shadows dropped down to the ground. Shot after shot rang out, one in desperation, the other in focus, until it all ended with a great falcon falling down to the earth below—killed by the final rang of the stranger’s musket.

16-15.

Felix collapsed to the ground, shivering with a fear that had not risen since two years ago when he locked his heart away. He hugged his weapon to his chest and watched as the stranger strolled over, chuckling rather smugly as he peered all around the field, filled with dead birds.

“You certainly don’t make it easy, do you now?” He said coolly. “But it matters not anymore—you are mine.”

This was it. After two years of trying to escape from his mental captivity, Felix found himself once again shackled to a fate he spent so hard to escape from. He would lose himself to a marriage without love, a marriage of nothing but harsh usage and possessiveness unearned.

Felix’s breath haggard and he dreamed of a dream so precious, one that haunted his every sleep for the last two years. Where he and Dimitri reached Derdriu after all, standing side by side on the great blue coasts. They would go hunting and fishing every night, returning to bathe together and make love in the privacy of their home. A world just for them and no one else.

And then the stranger called him out once again, a beckoning of his name so close to his dreams that he wondered if Dimitri in his fantasies had stepped out and greeted him. Felix lifted his head up and his heart flushed violently with the return of warm, throbbing blood.

The stranger had uncloaked himself.

Hot tears threatened and pulsed at the edge of Felix’s suddenly lively eyes of amber.

“You,” he simply croaked with a half-sob.

“Me,” it said back, a smile with fangs of white. A body, thoroughly scarred from the neck to the chest. A single eye of blue twinkling in the darkness.

No more words were spent—It was all unnecessary, as the two dark figures standing out in the open field came together and merged into one.

The sky drifted away in patterns of rain and ice, the coming of a violent storm for the city.

But all was fare and well—for Felix has always sought out warmth from the bitter cold, and he did not plan to let this one go for a very long time.

______________________

It was said that Felix Fraldarius, after a lifetime of stubborn refusals and hunting challenges, finally married and settled down quietly. No one knew who exactly he gave his hand to, with the wedding being a private, intimate affair with just a priest present.

The Jarl of Fhirdiad, a small village that had somehow multiplied into a thriving city capital in the span of two years, had sent a wedding gift of daggers and albino furs to the small seaside cottage of his brother.

Word spread around that the husband was probably not a nobleman—men of power would have made a spectacle of winning Felix’s hand through a great and expensive wedding.

So it was a surprise that the most logical conclusion was a commoner, who somehow, through sheer luck, bested Felix’s challenge and won the marriage. But rumors floated around incandescent without the relief of answers.

Felix carried on as though nothing had ever happened, refusing to answer any questions about his private life. Though all of Derdriu took note of the small smile that suddenly appeared on the huntsman’s face near the coming of night.

In the darkness, where the ocean glowed an ominous light of jellyfish, and the skies turned inwards to a starry sea, two figures walked along the coast—hand in hand, half-merging into one another seamlessly, and never to depart again.

**Author's Note:**

> Dimilix is my life so here is my shitty contribution to such a powerful ship. 
> 
> Thank you again to [1ssa!](https://twitter.com/shit_anuyan) for the absolutely amazing art! Please follow them to see more breathtaking work~ 
> 
> And follow my sad butt on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/Meatbike344) for more updates


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